


Once Bitten

by orphan_account



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided that it was time to move on.  I was sure it was...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> Written in Spring 2008 prior to Craig's return.

ONCE BITTEN

 

 

 

 

John Paul met Kieron’s eye then looked hastily down at the mess he’d created on his plate.

 

“Come on you two.” Myra was wearing her jacket, bag in hand. “Thought you’d be finished ages ago. The shopping’s not gonna get done by itself.”

 

“Mum, do you mind if I give it a miss today? My stomach’s playing up a bit.”

 

“Oh, you alright, John Paul?” Before he could stop it a warm, slightly clammy hand clamped itself to his forehead. “You do feel a bit warm. Okay, get yourself back to bed then. I'll get a taxi back. Me own fault really, should have taken Jacqui up on her offer the other day.”

 

“You sure, Myra?” Kieron had half risen, an expression of genuine concern on his face. “I have a half day today-“

 

“Don’t be silly. I know your half days, Father – writing sermons, preparing lessons for Sunday school. You need that time. No I’ll be fine.” She laughed a little. “Been doing this for a while now.” She gave them both a look that spoke of great affection. “John Paul you get back to bed and don’t expect Kieron to go running after you! He can be right mardy and demanding when he’s poorly can our John Paul.”

 

“Mum!”

 

“But,” she pinched his cheek; “We love him!”

 

“Yeah,” Kieron agreed, smiling at her, carefully avoiding John Paul’s eye.

 

“Well I’m off. See you boys later.”

 

“Bye mum.”

 

“Bye Myra.”

 

They listened for the sound of the door closing, waited 10 minutes then raced each other upstairs.

 

 

 

**

 

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“I wish...”

 

“What?”

 

“That we could be together properly.”

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, John Paul. It won’t always be like this.”

 

“Yeah I know.” He stroked Kieron’s strong, clever fingers. “I just don’t like stealing time like this. I just want us to be able to make love when we want, not when everyone’s out and you’ve got a half day.”

 

He raised John Paul’s hand to his lips. “I promise you, I promise that we’ll sort it out. Soon.”

 

“I don’t want to pressure you, Kieron. I don’t say these things to put pressure on you. I just really, really want to be with you – all the time. I’m proud of you.”

 

They stared into each other’s faces. “Me too.” Kieron kissed him. “I promise you. Soon.”

 

John Paul cuddled up to him, head on his broad chest. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

 

“Neither have I.”

 

“Love you.”

 

“Me too.”

 

 

 

 

**

 

 

“And what’s put _that_ look on your face, Mr McQueen?”

 

Kris Pringle squeezed him by the hips in a way that was both intimate and totally asexual. John Paul glanced at him, then unable to help himself grinned into his beer.

 

“Oh my, so I’m right aren’t I? Something big and hard hitting the right spot, yeah?”

 

This time John Paul choked on the beer. “Oh tell the entire bar why don’t you?”

 

“Listen sweetheart the ‘entire bar’ probably already sussed that from the way you were walking not to mention the smug smile on your face. So you’ve managed to snatch a few wee moments with lover boy then.”

 

“I wish. Not as long as that – never long enough.”

 

He felt Kris’ perceptive blue gaze on him. “You seem to be happy though. Happier than you were this time last year.”

 

“I told you; I learn from my mistakes. That was a mistake – and not one I’m ever likely to make again.”

 

“Right.” He ordered a juice then ushered John Paul to a corner table. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you never say his name.”

 

John Paul laughed. “Well he wouldn’t be a secret lover if you knew his name now would he?”

 

Kris stared at him for a long time. “I didn’t mean him, I meant    
  
_him.”_   


 

John Paul took a long sip of his beer, his stare bordering on hostile. “No-one likes being reminded of their mistakes, Kris.”

 

Kris raised his hands defensively. “Point taken. Craig Dean – oops sorry – He Who Must Not be Named is the past, and swiftly moving on...”

 

John Paul continued to glare at his friend, mood swiftly souring. “Yeah, moving on. That’s the point – I’ve moved on and I don’t need you constantly bringing it into the conversation.”

 

“Say his name.”

 

“What?”

 

“Come on, say his name and then I’ll believe you’ve moved on.”

 

“I cannot believe I actually started to think you were mature-“

 

“Come on: C-C-C-R-“

 

“Craig. Okay? Craig! There I’ve said it, happy?”

 

Kris was grinning. “Well it’s a start. Now say: Craig Dean was the biggest mistake of my life and I’m so glad that my heart no longer pounds at the very mention of his name- Hey John Paul I’m only teasing. John Paul!”

 

 

 

 

 

**

 

 

 

“Aren’t you going to answer that? It’s doing my bloomin’ head in!” His mum was frowning in the way she did when she was starting a headache.

 

“Sorry.” He turned the phone off without looking at the number display.

 

“Trying to avoid someone?”

 

“What? No, not exactly.”

 

“Someone pestering you?” She seemed to be settling in for one of her mother son bonding sessions – read, an intrusive prying into his personal life.

 

“Not like that. It’s Kris, he and I had a bit of a row earlier. I’m not ready to make up yet.”

 

She nodded sagely, examining his face. “He’s a funny one, that Kris. Never been able to get me head around the way he dresses, but he’s a right laugh though.”

 

John Paul made a face. “He certainly likes to think so.”

 

“Oh stop being so mardy, you!” Her elbow nudged his side in a way that was probably meant to be gently conspiratorial. It felt like he’d just been clamped in a revolving door. “It couldn’t have been that bad and no offence son, but you can’t afford to lose any more friends. Kieron, for all he’s a good person to have around well he’s not the best person for you-“

 

Her words startled him into sitting up very straight. “What?”

 

“Well he’s a priest isn’t he? Not really the sort of person a lad of your age can really have as a friend. He’s got too many commitments, commitments he takes very seriously.”

 

“I do know that, mum-“

 

“I mean he has to perform Last Rites a lot of the time and it takes its toll. There’ll be times he won’t be able to share with you. For a start, you don’t really understand-“

 

“Yes I do,” he said indignantly.

 

“No, you don’t, John Paul. You’re not a believer so you can’t really understand. Even I wouldn’t say I really understand what it takes to be a priest – or a nun. It’s a really big, really special thing, so big that having to take care of another person – in a relationship, I mean – would be a bad distraction. That’s why they take the vows of celibacy so that they can devote it all to God, to the people who really need them...”

 

“And what about what he needs – they need? Who keeps them warm at night, who do they have to confide in, share those times when it gets really bad?”

 

“See I told you you didn’t understand. They’re not like the rest of us, John Paul-“

 

“Of course they are! Kieron’s human just like the rest of us-“

 

“I know, but John Paul he _isn’t_ like the rest of us – he wouldn’t be a priest otherwise. I know I couldn’t do what they do, most of us couldn’t. That’s what makes them so special. They sacrifice a lot to do what they do and that’s why we treat them with such respect, why we – honour, yes honour them. I wouldn’t have the strength to keep those vows, to dedicate my life to God the way they do. It’s an honour to have Kieron in my home, it really is. It’s like I’ve been given a great prize or something, trusted with something precious.” She gave an embarrassed laugh and slapped him – painfully – on the thigh. “Oh listen to me going on! What’s this about you falling out with Kris?”

 

John Paul gave her a tight smile. “Oh it’s nothing really, he has a way of being picky and annoying at times, that’s all.”

 

“Well that’s friends for you. Did I ever tell you about Loretta Delaney?”

 

He decided not to say: only a million fucking times and instead just smiled as she recounted for the millionth fucking time how much of a bitch her best friend used to be...

 

 

 

**

 

 

It was weird knocking at the door of his own bedroom, and he should have got used to it by now, but a tiny part of him still resented the fact that he’d been turfed out without consultation, ceremony or warning. Good thing he liked Kieron or that would be a very sore point between them.

 

He waited for the sound of Kieron’s deep voice granting permission then poked his head around the door. Kieron was half dressed, his black shirt open to mid chest, the golden crucifix drawing his eye as it always did. They hadn’t had sex often enough for him to have got used to the sight of him half naked – well he wasn’t exactly half naked now, but this look was often a prelude to intimacy and he felt his mouth going dry as Kieron met his eye. “Erm...”

 

“Come in,” he said impatiently, voice low. “I miss you.”

 

John Paul closed the door softly behind him. “Me too.”

 

He lost himself in the kiss, holding onto Kieron for dear life as he felt himself going under, under...

 

“John Paul!”

 

Michaela’s screech had them leaping to their feet, both of them instinctively swiping a hand across mouths and straightening clothes.

 

“John Paul where’s the shower gel mum bought yesterday?”

 

He exchanged a quick look with Kieron, who, frowning, turned away and started buttoning his shirt. “It’s in the airing cupboard,” he shouted.

 

“What’s it doing there you plonker!” He listened to the sound of doors being opened, slammed, opened, slammed then the sound of the shower running before turning to Kieron.

 

He watched him get himself buttoned up, straightened up, masked up and felt his heart sink. “You’re angry with me.”

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“The fact that you can’t bear to look at me.”

 

“It’s not you I’m angry with, John Paul.” He turned to him at last, dark eyes flashing. “But I am angry. Perhaps it’s with myself, the situation, I don’t know. What if she’d seen you come in here and instead of simply calling you opened the door and – and saw us?”

 

“Do you want to finish?”

 

“Of course not!” He looked genuinely startled that John Paul had voiced that concern and went to him, took him in his arms. “I just want to be with you properly, spend an entire night with you, away from here, away from everybody.”

 

John Paul closed his eyes, heart beating faster. “Do you?”

 

“Course I do. “Do you?”

 

“So much.”

 

“Well let’s do it then. I’m due in Lancaster next week – it’s a five-day conference, but I’m allowed 2 days to myself. What if I tell everyone it’s for a week and you join me there for the two days?”

 

John Paul grinned into the soft cotton of Kieron’s shirt. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

 

 

 

 

**

 

“So I’m still persona non grata around here.” Belying his words Kris slid uninvited into the chair next to him. John Paul assumed the look he’d adopted was supposed to be remorseful. He had to wonder how his friend had ever landed a part – any part – in any show – ever!

 

“Well I knew it’d only be a matter of time before you tracked me down...” He poured the remainder of the lager into his glass, ignoring the other man.

 

“Look I apologise, ok? It’s a touchy subject and I shouldn’t have made fun.”

 

John Paul shrugged. “It’s not a particularly touchy subject I just wasn’t in the mood – got things on my mind.”

 

“Your guy.”

 

John Paul sighed. “I just want to be with him, Kris. So much.”

 

“But he’s the one saying no.”

 

“It’s not like he doesn’t want it too, it’s just...complicated.”

 

“I know, but- Look John Paul if it feels right, if it feels like it’s the real thing...”

 

“It is, it really is.”

 

“Well then my advice is stick with it. Things will change. Don’t put pressure on him, just be patient and it’ll all turn itself around.”

 

John Paul smiled at his friend. It felt like a great weight had just been lifted off his chest. “Thanks, Kris for being understanding, not judging...”

 

“What’s to judge? I’m all for grasping love with both hands the minute it comes your way. You’ve found the real thing and if anyone deserves a bit of happiness it would be you.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I’m getting a drink. Get you another?”

 

“Sure, same again, thanks.”

 

He watched Kris saunter to the bar wondering again how the heck he stayed aloft atop those six inch heels. Well they seemed like six inches to him, but they couldn’t be could they? Half a foot? How mental was that?

 

His phone rang and he frowned as he saw the unfamiliar number. Oh god, it couldn’t be Toby, could it, ready for another tilt at the windmill? He hesitated, urging Kris to return then, impatient with himself, answered it.

 

“Hello.”

 

“John Paul. Hey, mate, good to hear your voice.”

 

It was Craig. It took every ounce of willpower not to drop the phone, to keep his voice steady. “Yeah?”

 

“I was just phoning to let you know that I’m coming home – tomorrow – and wondered if we could meet up for a drink or something.”

 

“Sorry, I’m busy.”

 

There was a short silence on the line. “Oh, ok. See I’m only in England for a few days – back to Dublin on Sunday...”

 

“I’m sure Frankie will be pleased to see you.”

 

He heard Craig swallow. “Yeah, yeah she’s definitely looking forward to seeing her little boy again. Mothers eh? You go away to college and even that’s not enough to-“

 

“Look, Craig, I’m in the middle of something here, actually I’m having a drink with my boyfriend...”

 

“Oh right, sorry. Bad timing eh? So I’ll erm let you go then.”

 

“Yeah. See ya.” He disconnected the call just as Kris placed the glass in front of him. He looked up, smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.” He sat down. “You know, John Paul, I usually make a point of knowing when I’m in a relationship with someone. I thought we were just friends.”

 

“What?”

 

“Me, your new boyfriend.”

 

“Oh, that. Sorry.”

 

“No problem – I’m used to being the beard in a relationship.”

 

John Paul laughed. “You’re not exactly my beard, Kris.”

 

“So when he comes you’re not going to introduce me as the boyfriend then.”

 

“You’ve lost me.” He took a sip, fixing Kris with a stare.

 

Kris shrugged. “Okay, subject dropped. New subject: our next radio show...”

 

John Paul listened to Kris chattering away about the music, the topic for their next broadcast, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking, the way his stomach felt like it was slowly recovering from an expertly administered kicking.

 

 

 

 

**

 

 

“John Paul.”

 

Kieron was beckoning to him from the kitchen. “I’ve managed to book us a hotel for the two days.” He was smiling, but for some reason doing his best not to. Maybe he was afraid, like John Paul, that if he gave into happiness the floodgates would open and they would no longer be able to pretend in front of other people. So taking a leaf from Kieron’s book he nodded, smiled, but kept a lid on his feelings.

 

“Great. Just let me know the details, right?” His phone indicated a new text.

 

“Well I’d best be off.” He allowed his thumb to rub the inside of John Paul’s wrist as he moved past him. “See you later,” he said softly, then in a louder voice. “I’m off now, Myra.” He turned at the door once more and smiled at John Paul before closing it.

 

Smiling, John Paul leaned against the worktop and fished his phone from his pocket. The text was from Craig:

 

  
**Is it over? Just say and I promise I won’t bother you. I’ll accept it. Just tell me straight**   
  
.

 

His heart was pounding so hard and so violently that he felt his entire body go weak – and hot all over. The sound of his own blood rushing was so loud that he was sure it had effectively drowned out the sound of the McQueen’s noisy fridge. His eyes felt gritty and stung with the tears he hadn’t been aware were imminent. His hands were shaking as he composed a reply:

 

 **Y its over. Dont want 2 CU. Dont call me again.**

 

He pressed ‘send’ then quickly shoved the phone in his pocket, grabbed his jacket and hurried outside, unable to even shout a hasty farewell to his mother.

 

 

 

**

 

 

The rest of the day had been hellish. He’d decided that the best thing would be for him to throw himself into work; go to lectures, pay more attention than he usually did, party with his friends, spend the evening with the family, watch telly until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, maybe steal one of his mum’s sleeping tablets... All in an effort to not give him even one minute to think about the phone call or the text. He was hurting so badly he could hardly function. He’d been so sure, so sure he was over him. Kieron was everything Craig was not and he wanted him he really did, but that text from Craig had nearly killed him, replying to it had broken him in some fundamental way that he still couldn’t quite track. He’d known all the right things to say, the stance to take – there was no way he and Craig could be friends now so it was better that they weren’t. And the last thing he needed was a further rehashing of all the things that made them bad for each other – made Craig so bad for him - so no, it was best they stay away from each other. But his body was screaming out in protest against his mind’s course of action – fighting, refusing to accept it - and he was suffering as a result.

 

He’d gone to bed – sans the tablets – and his body had doubled its efforts to pull him away from what he knew to be the right course of action.

 

He was sick several times during the night, trying to be quiet until Tina followed him to the bathroom and held him while he cried his eyes out, not asking questions, just soothing him, administering to him the way they’d done when he was a kid, putting him to bed, staying until he fell asleep.

 

He woke feeling drained and achy, covering his head with the duvet as the memory came flooding back. He’d thought he was past all this, crying over him, breaking his heart over him. Why the hell couldn’t it be Monday already or better yet next Friday when he’d be with Kieron in Lancaster and    
  
_he_   
  
would be back in Dublin? But that was it: no more. He was never going to let him get to him that way again; wasn’t going to run away and hide like a little kid afraid of an imaginary monster. He’d come a long way these last 8 months and the best way to prove that to himself – and anybody else – was to just be normal, do everything he’d normally do, which meant getting his carcass out of bed and out of the house.

 

Decision made he found himself feeling better immediately and to Tina’s gentle enquiry he was able to reply with a heartfelt; ‘yes, much, much better thanks.’

 

 

 

**

 

 

He quickly read the text message from Kieron but didn’t succeed in wiping the smile from his face quickly enough to avoid Kris’ eagle eyed gaze.

 

“Oh don’t tell me – a dirty text.” He nudged him playfully.

 

John Paul adopted a coy expression. “Not telling and besides I didn’t even know there was any such thing.”

 

“Well dirty phone calls, dirty emails, why not dirty texting?”

 

John Paul laughed and Kris smiled with him. “I can just imagine.”

 

“Me too. Sad isn’t it?”

 

“Very.”

 

“So, you alright?”

 

“Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“You seemed a bit off the other day.”

 

“Well I can’t be life and soul all the time Kris, got to hand the baton over every now and again.”

 

“Oh it’s a baton, is it? I thought it was a 24 hour thing - my vocation in life, cos it’s a dirty job but some poor wee sucker has to do it.”

 

“Oh don’t flatter yourself. You are _not_ the life and soul, sweetheart, far from it.”

 

Kris stood up, twirled. “You think I’d be wearing this if it wasn’t to cheer everyone up, give them a good laugh?”

 

John Paul found himself laughing properly for the first time in days. “You’re a noble prince, Kris and here’s me thinking it was because you    
  
_liked_   
  
wearing the high heeled boots and the frilly blouses. Didn’t realise you were falling on your own sword just to give us all a good laugh.”

 

“Well see you don’t know everything about me.”

 

“What’s this?” Hannah appeared, blonde hair loose and shining with health. In fact she looked the picture of good health and on an impulse John Paul stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Oh what was that for? Not that I’m complaining, mind. Can I join you?”

 

“Please do, sweetheart. Nice to have some female company today.” Kris pulled out a chair for her.

 

“What he means, Hannah, is he wants someone to give him tips on what NOT to wear.”

 

“Oh you!” She pushed him playfully, eyes shining with delight. “Take no notice, Kris, John Paul’s just practising the bitchy gayness.” She leaned conspiratorially in Kris’ direction. “I told him that he was the least gay man I’d ever met. I think he took offence.”

 

“Yes he can be touchy at times.” He met John Paul’s warning glare head on. “I put it down to sexual frustration myself.”

 

“Oh,” she looked concerned. “I thought you’d met someone.”

 

John Paul inwardly cringed, but gave an outward show of nonchalance. “Not exactly. It’s still a bit up in the air, Hannah. Don’t really want to talk about it just now.”

 

She gave him a sympathetic look then turned her attention to Kris’ outfit. John Paul tried to catch Kris’ eye, but his friend cleverly managed to avoid this, going so far as to almost turn his back on John Paul as he set Hannah off with his exaggerated accounts of shopping for clothes in H&M.

 

John Paul watched him for a while, plotting revenge, but found himself drifting off, picking up on the tune playing, picturing the night he and Kieron would be spending together the following week.

 

He was jolted out of his reverie when Hannah squealed, knocked over an empty glass and literally ran past him. He and Kris both turned in time to see her launch herself at Craig.

 

“Oh my god, Craig!” She was holding him so tightly John Paul seriously feared for his lungs – and his ribcage. “Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

 

Craig didn’t reply, just held her as fiercely, eyes closed. John Paul turned away and caught Kris staring at him, a strange expression on his face. He looked away, took another sip of his drink, fighting with every fibre in him to stay, not to get up and walk out of there. But he’d made himself a promise; had resolved not to let Craig get to him again, resolved to show the guy he was well and truly over him. Walking out now wasn’t going to do him any favours so he took a deep steadying breath and told himself to relax, just relax. It would be over in half an hour – he’d stay for that long. He could cope for half an hour. And maybe Craig wasn’t even planning to stay, especially now he knew John Paul was there...

 

“Oh it is so good to see you.” Hannah was pulling Craig by the hand, seemingly unable to detach herself from him. If John Paul hadn’t known better he’d have begun to question the nature of her feelings for him. “Sit down, I’ll get the drinks in-“

 

“Thanks Hannah, but I-“

 

“Sit down, Craig,” he said, short, but without bite. “At least have a drink.”

 

Craig’s eyes were the same; he couldn’t understand how the hell he’d thought he could look at those eyes and remain neutral. “Alright then. Sure Hannah, the usual for me. Thank you. This Hannah’s seat?”

 

“Sit where you like, it’s a student union bar – seating arrangements hardly matter.” He made a point of not looking at Craig as he said this.

 

“Okay. Hi Kris.”

 

“Hi Craig. Hannah’s right – it is good to see you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’d forgotten how gorgeous you were.”

 

Craig’s reaction surprised John Paul. He laughed. “Steady on, you’re not exactly my type.”

 

“Not into blondes then?” John Paul felt the swift look from Craig and the non-look from Kris. He wanted to sink through the floor.

 

“Not when it comes from a bottle, no. And since I’ve never liked make-up on my women I’m certainly not going to like it on my men.”

 

“Oh you’re so conventional.” He took a sip from his glass, practically fluttering his eyelashes at Craig. “And let’s see – no cardigan today?”

 

Craig laughed again. “Well not today, but I brought one with me just so I’d feel completely at home, so you might get a treat later.”

 

John Paul couldn’t help himself; he shot a glare at Craig, which he didn’t maintain, his good sense hastily intervening in time. Why the fuck should it bother him if Craig flirted with every second man – or woman – in here. No business of his. “You seen Frankie yet?”

 

Craig looked at him. God those eyes again; John Paul couldn’t hold his gaze – he just couldn’t do it. “Yeah I got a really early flight so I’ve been in Hollyoaks for a while. Mum’s really cut up about Jake and everything that’s going on with Jack and the pub. To be honest I had to get away from it for a while.”

 

“Is that why you came – to see Jake?”

 

“And Charlie, yeah. It’s a mess, isn’t it? And I can’t believe they didn’t tell me about Jack’s heart attack and the siege, Darren getting shot.” John Paul didn’t say anything – the night The Dog had been held up and Darren almost died he’d been getting his first kiss from Kieron. He hadn’t felt guilty about that until now.

 

 

“I’m sorry you’ve come home to such bad news, Craig. It must be really hard for you. You have our sympathy.”

 

“Thanks, Kris, that means a lot. But I’ve had enough of doom and gloom for the one day. So tell me what’s been happening while I’ve been away. Steph used to email me, but she hasn’t for a while and when mum phones she keeps things from me, so tell me what’s been going on in all your lives. How’s college life suiting you all?”

 

“Well it’s same old, same old for me. Still undecided whether to prostitute my talents to the West End or Broadway. Decisions, decisions...”

 

“The only word that has any validity in that sentence is prostitute.”

 

“And oh yeah, John Paul McQueen has turned into a queen bitch, easily knocking the crown from _my_ golden tresses.”

 

Craig laughed. “Do you think blonde hair is a prerequisite for competing in the bitch queen stakes?”

 

“Well judging from that opening salvo, I’d say jet black hair can join the party too.”

 

“It’s not jet black.” John Paul again found himself wanting to sink through the floor as they both looked at him.

 

“What’s that you say, darlin’?” He wanted to strangle Kris where he smugly sat, feigning wide-eyed innocence.

 

“His hair, it’s not jet black.”

 

“The hair on his head or-“

 

“Okay, can we just drop it?” He drank hastily from his glass, feeling the warmth of a full on blush suffuse his face and neck.

 

“Well it looks jet black to the naked eye,” Kris said, staring at Craig’s head.

 

Craig grinned, ran a hand through his hair. “Well I think I found a grey hair a while back.”

 

“As if,” Kris scoffed.

 

“No, seriously.” He leaned over, presenting the top of his head to Kris’ gaze.

 

Not one to resist a clear-cut invitation Kris ran a slow, needlessly sensual hand through Craig’s thick hair. “Oooh, that is really thick hair and it looks jet black to    
  
_me_   
  
. No, can’t detect a single hair that isn’t jet black. But then again I’m maybe not looking closely enough. I’m sure if I had hours and hours to examine it I’d discover different coloured strands in there.”

 

John Paul resolved to kill Kris the minute an opportunity presented itself and almost sighed with relief as Hannah came back with the drinks. He leapt up to help her, ignoring the way Craig’s eyes drank him in blatantly, shamelessly. He felt himself blushing again as he began to grow hard and sat down as soon as he felt he could do so without drawing undue attention.

 

“Well this is good, isn’t it? I mean it’s horrible what’s happened to Charlie and Jake, Craig, but I am so glad you’re here. And I know it’s only a flying visit but we’ve missed you so much.” She had hold of him again and John Paul felt that ridiculous roar of possession deep in his belly, the same response he’d felt when Kris had had his hand in Craig’s hair. He finished his beer and reached for the next. “I hope you’ll allow me to buy you dinner tomorrow, Craig. I’d really like to spend some time with you. If you don’t mind, that is.” For some reason she was looking at him as she said this and he belatedly realised that she was talking to him, asking his permission.

 

“I’d love to Hannah - if you’re sure. I mean with the- the-“

 

“Anorexia. It’s alright, you’re allowed to say it.” He assumed from the look on her face that Hannah was used to having to give people permission to talk about her illness. “I did nearly die, Craig, and it’s still a battle, but I do eat and I have had meals in Il Gnosh without having a panic attack so you needn’t worry that I’m gonna do something daft.”

 

“I didn’t mean-“

 

“I know, but I’m alright. Promise.”

 

He examined her face for a moment then smiled, nodded and squeezed the hand that was still joined with his. “Well then I’d love to have dinner with you, Hannah.”

 

She beamed a smile that included them all. “Great.” Reluctantly releasing Craig’s hand she searched in her handbag for her phone. “Put your new number in there.”

 

Craig grinned and gave a faux salute. “Yes ma’am! I don’t remember her being this bossy. Was she always this bossy John Paul?” He was keying his phone, head down, and missed the startled look on John Paul’s face.

 

“Well not as bossy as Sarah, but she had her moments,” he managed.

 

Craig, still not looking up, laughed and shook his head. “   
  
_No-one’s_   
  
as bossy as Sarah – Jewish mothers maybe.”

 

“Catholic Irish mothers too,” Kris put in.

 

“Catholic English mothers,” John Paul felt obliged to contribute.

 

Kris seemed deep in thought. “Is it just a woman thing you think? Women are just inherently bossy?”

 

“Oh I hope we’re not going to start a gender war here,” Hannah protested. “I’m outnumbered. Might have to call in reinforcements,” she threatened slyly.

 

Kris raised his hands. “No, no, please not Sarah and Nancy. We give up, don’t we guys?”

 

“Yeah.” Craig and John Paul answered in unison, stared at each other then quickly looked away.

 

“Anyway,” Hannah was saying, “We women have to be bossy otherwise you blokes would be living under an avalanche of old newspapers, footy mags, girlie mags-“

 

“Er, speak for yourself Miss Ashworth. I don’t allow either of those things in my flat. The closest I ever come to a girlie mag is Cosmo.”

 

“And no, no girlie mags for me either.”

 

Craig’s eyes widened in protest as all eyes turned to him. “What? Okay footy mags yeah I admit it – I don’t throw them away - but it’s been a while since I looked at any girlie mags – a long while.” He turned his attention to his phone once more but his words had caused a ripple of something, some slight awkwardness in the atmosphere and John Paul prayed for someone to rescue the situation.

 

“You know I just don’t get it,” Kris said, adopting an exaggerated air of befuddlement.

 

“What?” Hannah asked, taking his bait.

 

“The footy thing. I mean what is that about?”

 

“Tell me about it. You should hear Gilly going on about Manchester bloody City. I swear he’d sell his first born child just to get into that locker room-“

 

“Er, changing room Hannah – this isn’t Friday Night Lights,” John Paul said pompously.

 

“I don’t care. It’s boring. Standing around in the cold for two hours watching your team not score any goals- and come to think of it the other team not score any goals either.”

 

“Well that’d be because you’re supporting Man City,” he said with smug satisfaction. “That’s never a factor with The Reds.”

 

“The Blues, The Reds, The Magpies. God even the nicknames are boring.”

 

“They’re simple – does exactly what it says on the tin.”

 

“They’re simple alright – like blokes are simple.”

 

“Exactly – that’s what blokes want –the simple things in life.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“Beer, footy, sex – simple.”

 

“In that order, John Paul?” Kris asked mildly. “I’d have thought for you the order’d be reversed: sex, footy, beer.”

 

Craig had been listening to the conversation, smiling, but still busy with his phone. For some reason this made him look up and with Craig’s dark gaze on him John Paul found himself quite unable to deliver the retort hanging off the tip of his tongue. He took refuge in his beer once more.

 

“And what would it be for you?” Hannah asked Kris, genuinely interested.

 

“Well let’s see. For a start I’d not make such a list. I’m a bloke but I’m not simple – I’m complicated, me and I like complicated things.” He looked at Craig and practically leered. Again Craig surprised John Paul by laughing in response.

 

“What, you like me now you know I swing both ways? You didn’t before.”

 

“I thought you were attractive, but a bit too middle of the road straight guy for my very particular tastes.”

 

“And I told you; I may like girls and I may like boys too but that doesn’t mean I like a mixture of the two things.”

 

“Oh that burns. So what are you saying that if I took off the make-up and put on the baseball cap and trainers I might stand a chance?”

 

Craig examined him closely. “Maybe. I do know I like you as you are – just not really    
  
_that way_   
  
\- and if you were going to be with me I’d need you to be you, so probably not.”

 

“Oh well – I tried. I tend to find that I’m more a turn on for the girls than the boys anyway.”

 

“Really? That’s interesting.” He sounded as though he meant it too.

 

“Don’t know why, maybe more women are undercover dykes than we realise.”

 

“No they really go for that look?”

 

“Well don’t sound so astonished – you knew I was bi. Didn’t you?”

 

“I heard you had a thing with Jessica but I sort of thought it was experimenting or something.”

 

Kris laughed. “The truth is I’ve been with more girls than guys.”

 

“Blimey!”

 

“Hannah, should I be insulted? I’m thinking I should be insulted.”

 

She laughed and reached over to pat Kris on the arm. “Well I can see the appeal even if he can’t.”

 

“Well thank you – a woman with taste.”

 

“Well it’d be quite nice to be able to ask your boyfriend to choose from two outfits and actually get a sensible answer for a change.”

 

John Paul laughed. “I may sleep with blokes Hannah but I’m still a bloke myself. And I    
  
_don’t_   
  
spend all my waking hours worrying about my next outfit or my hair.”

 

“Well no offence, sweetheart, but that’s patently obvious. I mean lose the horizontal stripes already! You’re like that Wally fella in that book. Though no-one’d have a problem finding _you_ in a crowd!”

 

He saw both Craig and Hannah trying to hide their smiles at this and turned on Kris. “Okay, another challenge. You choose my next outfit and I choose yours.”

 

“Oh my I’m quaking in my boots. Where’s the challenge in that? All I have to do is steer you away from the stripes and we’re set.”

 

“Whatever. Are you game or not?”

 

“I’m game. Are we talking brand new outfits from an actual shop or raiding our wardrobes kinda thing?”

 

John Paul thought. “Brand new.”

 

“Well my tastes are very expensive.”

 

“So? I’m choosing a new outfit for you not buying it!”

 

“Okay then you’re on.” They shook on it. “And are we dressing me as a boy or a girl this time?”

 

John Paul gave him a long look. “What do you think?” he asked quietly.

 

Kris shared a raised eyebrow with Hannah. “Oh my. You need to use that voice more often, John Paul. I could actually fancy you when you go all sultry and masterful.”

 

“What a pity I’m completely out of your league then. So tomorrow?”

 

“Oh not likely, I don’t get money until next Friday.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll be here next Friday.”

 

“Where you off to John Paul?” Hannah sounded curious, interested rather than nosy and anyway what better opportunity to let Craig know the deal?

 

“Well it’s kind of a weekend break – a romantic break. Don’t tell mum though, she doesn’t know I’m seeing anyone – yet – and you know what my family’s like Hannah.”

 

She giggled. “Do you remember the photo album?”

 

“Oh don’t remind me,” he pleaded. “She got it out for Spike too.” He’d been deliberately avoiding even glancing in Craig’s direction for the last few minutes but he’d have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to have seen him stiffen at the mention of Spike’s name.

 

“A weekend break? That’s nice.” Kris was staring hard at him. “He managed to get away then.”

 

“For me, yeah. He’s got a really busy schedule but he made time for me. He’s great like that.” He was pretty certain that if humans, like dragons, could blow fire from their nostrils he’d be engulfed in flames right now judging from the way Craig was deliberately not looking at him, but not succeeding in hiding his ire either. “Best thing that’s happened to me for a very long time, probably ever.”

 

He smiled at Hannah and though she returned the smile it was more than a little tentative, this impression amplified by the fact that she then immediately changed the subject “You know what’s happened with Mike Barnes and Zoe Carpenter, don’t you?”

 

“Oh tell me about it,” Kris said gleefully. “I knew ages ago, of course – worked it out - but Zoe’s a friend and she swore me to secrecy. I think it’s alright – they suit.”

 

“Yeah,” Hannah agreed, deep in thought. “I wouldn’t have thought it and you must never ever tell Sarah I said this but I think she’s exactly what Mike Barnes needs.”

 

“A little bit of mustard to keep up the old fire you mean?”

 

“Well I wouldn’t have put it quite that way myself, but yeah, maybe. I’ve never seen him so happy and I mean that literally.”

 

“Yeah, but someone’s gonna get hurt mark my words. It’s always the same – you find that little bit of happiness and the next thing you know-“

 

“Oh Kris, don’t be so cynical. Oh look, John Paul, it’s Father Kieron. Shall I wave him over? Kieron! Oh god do you think he minds me calling him Kieron? I feel so uncomfortable calling him Father Kieron, but Kieron feels a bit disrespectful.”

 

John Paul laughed, stomach churning. What was Kieron doing here? “He’s not like a proper priest, are you Kieron? Hannah was just saying she doesn’t know what to call you-“

 

Kieron stood behind him, facing Craig and Hannah and John Paul felt uncomfortable with the fact that he couldn’t see his face. “Kieron’s fine – it’s my name, what I’m used to and you’re not my parishioners so it would feel a little weird you all suddenly calling me father.”

 

“Well once a catholic, Father,” Kris said in a way utterly at odds with his usual manner.

 

Kieron laughed. “So they tell me. So, looks like a party.”

 

“Hardly,” John Paul said. “No offence, but I wouldn’t be seen dead at any party that had Kris as a guest.”

 

“Oh charming, does that include me and Craig by association then?”

 

“Sorry, no, you’re not included – it was a specific insult, not a general one.”

 

“You know they say you only insult the ones you really like,” Kieron was saying, “So I think he likes you, Kris.”

 

There was something a little off in his voice but John Paul was confident that it was apparent to him alone. Was he jealous of Kris? John Paul thought they’d sorted all that out when he’d assured him that Kris was definitely just a friend. Maybe they needed to revisit that conversation. He desperately wanted to grab the hand he could see in his peripheral vision, squeeze it, assure him that there was only one man for him, but they were in public and no-one even knew there was anything between them.

 

“Oh you mean like the way that you chase the girl you like at school and instead of kissing her when you catch give her an Indian burn instead?” Kris eyes were wide and very blue, shining with good humour.

 

They all laughed – well except Craig who appeared to be sunk into a very familiar sulk.

 

“You guys – you’re so retarded when it comes to that kind of thing. Well at that age anyway. You’re retarded in a different way when you get older.”

 

“You understand that I was describing behaviour that I _observed,_ not actually indulged in myself, don’t you? No, I was always very forward with the girls, me.”

 

“And the boys,” John Paul mocked.

 

“Well actually, no, that took a bit longer.” He glanced up at Kieron. “But that’s a story for another day. Will you join us, Father?”

 

“No, I was looking for someone who unfortunately appears not to be here, so I’m going to leave you to – Oh I’m sorry I don’t think we were introduced.”

 

John Paul felt his heart stutter to a stop as Craig looked up into Kieron’s face. It was like time stood still for an age as he stood, reached over and grasped Kieron’s hand in a formal shake. They didn’t know about each other, there was nothing in it, but he knew his heart wouldn’t get back to normal until the two men were no longer in the same room together.

 

“Craig Dean. I don’t suppose you know The Dog. Jack, the proprietor’s, my stepdad.”

 

“Oh you’re Craig?” Kieron sounded genuinely surprised and John Paul swivelled his head to look at him. He had never mentioned Craig, he knew that so... “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“Yeah?” Craig was seated once more, a false smile on his face. Again John Paul was confident that he was the only one able to tell that the smile was not genuine.

 

“Yeah, Myra’s mentioned you a few times, Carmel too. No offence but I pretty much expected you to have ‘genius’ tattooed to your forehead. You’re definitely a lot more... normal... than I expected.”

 

“Sorry?” Craig seemed puzzled and a little annoyed too. The look he’d shot at John Paul when Kieron mentioned Myra had been venomous.

 

Kieron laughed. “They both said you were very bright, that you were going to do well for yourself, that you were the apple of your mother’s eye. Ladies tend to confide that sort of thing to me, don’t ask me why. Carmel‘s a big fan.”

 

“Really?” Craig’s smile had lightened, become genuine at last.

 

“Yeah, apparently you’re going to be the next Richard Branson, possibly the next Bill Gates.”

 

“Oooh I knew there was a reason I found you strangely attractive,” Kris said, leering again.

 

Craig laughed it off. “Well I think Carmel’s exaggerating a bit. I did tell her that I planned to be a millionaire by the time I was 25. I think she took me a little too much at my word.”

 

“Anyone who can get an A in A’ level maths is well on the way to genius status in my book,” Every word from Kieron’s mouth was causing John Paul severe astonishment. How the fuck did he know _that_?

 

“Well I put in the work,” Craig seemed pleased but a little embarrassed by all this unexpected ego stroking.

 

“And college is going ok?”

 

“Yes, it is. I’m enjoying myself.”

 

“Big step, going to study in another country. You have my admiration for having the courage.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

John Paul took another sip from his glass, his mind in turmoil. What the heck was going on?

 

“So you’re just here for the weekend?”

 

“Yeah, got some important presentations and stuff next week so can’t afford the time. Back on Monday.”

 

“Well it was nice to meet you – at last. Hope to see you the next time you come over.”

 

“You too.” He rose as they shook hands with genuine warmth this time. John Paul felt Kris’s eye on him, but didn’t acknowledge it.

 

“Well I’d better be heading back, got a lot of work to do. John Paul could you let Myra know I won’t be back for dinner?”

 

“Sure. I’ll make sure she leaves you a sandwich or something if you’re going to be really late.”

 

“That would be nice, though I do have a soft spot for _your_ sandwiches, John Paul.”

 

He laughed. “Okay, I take the hint – I’ll make them.”

 

“Well your mum has enough on her plate doesn’t she?” He patted him on the shoulder in a gesture that to the uninitiated could seem merely friendly, but to John Paul meant everything. It was a signal of sorts that they would grab a moment that night and his heart immediately lightened. “Well I’m off. Bye.”

 

“Bye, Kieron.”

 

He didn’t turn to watch him go, playing instead with the spilt beer under his glass, feigning a nonchalance he was far from feeling.

 

“He is so not like the priests I remember back home,” Kris confided.

 

“I know,” Hannah agreed, still staring at the door through which Kieron had just exited. “He’s a bit, well I know this is really sick, but I’m not a catholic so it doesn’t matter, but he’s a bit yummy isn’t he?”

 

“Hannah Ashworth! Go wash your mouth out with carbolic soap!”

 

She was laughing, eyes crinkled up in the way that made him know when she was genuinely happy. “I know, I know, but I’ve got eyes - and hormones. I know he’s completely off limits, but it’s the forbidden fruit sometimes isn’t it? And he’s so tall, so manly-“

 

“La-la-la, not listening.” Kris had his hands clamped to his ears, but he was grinning hugely. “And you’re only saying that because you’re not a Catholic.” He looked at John Paul. “Eh, John Paul? Anyone who’s been brought up in the faith-“ He shuddered. “It’s a complete no-no, just yucky. Doing it with a priest = true sickness in my book.”

 

“Oh that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Hannah protested. “You make it sound like bestiality or something. Kieron’s tasty, you’d have to be blind not to see and I’m just saying that, well you’re going to be tempted.”

 

“Not me – and trust me I’ve met priests that make Kieron look like a dog! But that part of me that protects me from wearing polka dots and belly tops also prevents me from ever finding anyone in a dog collar sexually attractive. Am I right, John Paul? It’s all about being a catholic isn’t it?”

 

“Which I’m not so please don’t keep using me as your backup authority in this.”

 

“Semantics, my dear. I mean you’re playing host to a priest so I’d say that gives you more authority than either of these two heathens.”

 

“No, it doesn’t. I’m no more of a believer than Craig or Hannah.”

 

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean you’d consider Kieron or any man of the cloth a viable sexual option though does it?”

 

“I don’t know – they’re just people to me.”

 

“I agree,” Hannah said and he could have kissed her. He had felt the ground shifting into quicksand under his feet. Hannah had succeeded in deflecting Kris’ attention.

 

“You’d shag him? Seriously?”

 

“Yes, I think I would.”

 

“And you’d have no qualms about it?”

 

“No I don’t think I would.”

 

Kris shook his head then turned to the unusually quiet Craig. “How about you? Would you shag him?”

 

“Not my type.”

 

“Oh that’s a cop out if ever I heard one.”

 

“Well you asked the question, I answered, what more do you want?”

 

“Say he _was_ your type... say he looked like John Paul, would you shag him then?”

 

“Kris for fuck’s sake,” John Paul started angrily.

 

Craig was actually laughing. “You don’t believe in playing fair, do you? Okay let’s see; if John Paul was a priest would I still want to shag him?” He was staring at him, dark eyes direct and penetrating. “Definitely, wouldn’t think twice, especially if he was wearing a cassock.”

 

This had all three pairs of eyes turning to him, presumably picturing him in priestly robes and once again he prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him.

 

“Oh oh my,” Kris intoned eyes roaming. “That is an image I’m going to find hard to get out of my head.”

 

“Thanks, Craig,” John Paul said bitterly. “That’s given him an entire month’s worth of fuel for teasing the hell out of me.”

 

“Sorry. You wanted me to lie?”

 

Their eyes met and he felt totally exposed, not only to Craig, but to everyone else at the table too. He looked away, blushing like a schoolgirl nursing an out of control crush. “You used to be pretty good at it.”

 

“Still am, but if you expect me to lie to you you’re going to be disappointed. You think everything’s exactly the same as it used to be? You think _I’m_ still the same, John Paul?”

 

“I don’t know, you never changed when I asked you to, never did any of the things I wanted you to. I remember it always being me doing the compromising.”

 

“That was then-“

 

“Forget it, Craig, I’m not interested. I told you I’m with someone else now-“

 

“A priest, a guy who can’t even acknowledge he’s fucking you. Good for you! So glad to see you’ve moved on.”

 

He stared at him, no longer even aware of the others. “Well at least he has a reason why. It’s not sheer cowardice, not because he’s afraid to admit what he is, afraid what other people will think of him.”

 

“Change the fucking record why don’t you? It’s been eight fucking months since you dumped me. I’ve changed, but apparently you haven’t-“

 

“Kiss me then. Right here, right now. Kiss me!”

 

“Don’t be so fucking stupid.”

 

John Paul gave a mocking laugh. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

 

“You want me to kiss you, right here right now?” Craig’s voice was very quiet.

 

“Oh don’t worry Craig, I wasn’t being serious.”

 

“I’m asking because I just want to check we’re both on the same page here.”

 

“Yeah I want you to kiss me right here, right now.” His voice was tight with bitter mockery.

 

“Do you remember how it used to be when we kissed, John Paul?”

 

“No, remind me!” he challenged.

 

“How it’d start out slow and then before we knew it we’d be on the floor, fucking each other’s brains out? Do you remember how we couldn’t ever stop at the one kiss? Do you remember how we used to joke that we couldn’t ever kiss in public or we’d get arrested for public indecency? I ask cos it’s still that way for me – I’m not at the stage where I can ever give you a peck on the cheek or break off a kiss that’s about to turn into something else. It’s been 8 fucking months since I touched you, 8 months since I kissed you and you expect me to kiss you for the first time in a public bar, with our friends at the table? Do you really _want_ me to fuck you on the table?”

 

John Paul felt himself going weak at the knees, acknowledging at last that he was no longer in control of either the situation or himself. “Yes,” he said. “Fuck me on the table.” And it wasn’t a dare, it wasn’t a tease, he meant every fucking word. He’d lost it again. He’d lost it the way he always did whenever Craig was around him and he knew that unless someone intervened he was going to haul Craig across the table and do something that was definitely going to get them arrested for public indecency.

 

“Oh, oh my. Is it me or has it just got _really_ hot in here?”

 

“Shall I get the ice bucket or will you do the honours?” Hannah was looking flushed, apparently unsure which of them to focus on, her attention flicking restlessly from one face to the other.

 

“Oh trust me, love, you do _not_ want me to attempt to walk to the bar just now. Miss Ashworth, do we need to suggest someone get a room or do we let the games commence?” 

 

Hannah actually spent some time considering until John Paul, reluctantly pulling his attention from Craig, looked at her. “No, no we’d best let them get a room,” she said with unfeigned reluctance.

 

“Oh I’m disappointed – I was leaning toward door no.2 myself. Oh well, come on you two.” He started gathering his things.

 

John Paul looked at him. “What?”

 

“You two need to talk. I’m offering you the keys to the halls – specifically my room.”

 

“No, Kris, that’s not a good idea.” He tried to signal with his eyes just how much he didn’t want this.

 

“Since when has talking not been a good idea? Fucking, well that’s a different story, but I wasn’t suggesting the fucking – just the talking. Here.” He forced a bunch of keys into his hands. “There’s no-one there at the moment, but you’ve only got two hours tops before the hordes descend on you, so just use it productively okay?”

 

“Kris, you really don’t have to do this, Craig and I have said all we have to say.”

 

Hannah and Kris looked at each other and snorted with laughter. “Whatever, John Paul. See you later.”

 

“I’ll give you a call about dinner, Craig.” Hannah’s smile was big and bright enough to light up the entire room. She practically winked at John Paul. “See you later, John Paul.”

 

“Yeah, mates, see you later,” he said bitterly. He watched them out, trying to delay the moment when he and Craig would meet each other’s eye. This is what he’d been afraid of, why he’d been so glad that Hannah and Kris had been there to stop him losing it again. The last thing he’d expected was that Craig wouldn’t behave himself in public. He’d been counting on it.

 

“They’re gone, John Paul, and you can’t avoid me forever.” Craig had decided to tamp down on the direct sexual invitation and was using the eyes in a way that was almost as bad. John Paul had rarely been able to resist that particular look. Apparently he was no more immune to it now than he’d ever been.

 

“Let’s go then – get it over - but Craig I’m not sleeping with you.”

 

“I know – I’m not expecting you to.”

 

Yeah, right. He’d never been able to penetrate that particular look – it could equally be sincerity or bare faced lying. Well all he had to protect him was his own resolve. It just remained to discover how strong that resolve actually was.

 

 

 

 

**

 

 

He had Craig up against the sink before he could tell himself to get a grip. They’d not spoken more than a few words on the way to the student halls, both very aware of the other, the brush of an arm, the intake of a breath, and by then he’d stopped telling himself he could simply sit down with Craig and    
  
_talk._   
  
Maybe he could do that eventually, but today definitely was not that day. 

 

He tried to tell himself that Kieron didn’t deserve this, had little enough without John Paul cheating on him too, but when his brain made the computations and came up with: Craig, empty flat his body took over and simply ate Craig up like he was a gourmet feast.

 

Afterwards, breathing together on the floor, his body took over again, but this time to place gentle kisses all over, bury his face in the dark hair, whisper all those words that he’d been certain he’d never again say to anyone – especially Craig.

 

Craig soothed him, returning the kisses, laughing when John Paul apologised for the bruises, for the wolflike feasting. “I like to think I gave as good as I was getting.” His voice was low and sensual, mouth placed directly against John Paul’s ear. “I love you, John Paul. Always and forever.”

 

And what could he say in the face of that? How did a string of words, so well used, so cliched manage to break him so thoroughly? “Don’t break me, Craig. Please don’t break me again.”

 

Craig didn’t reply with words, he simply held him tighter, wrapping him up as thoroughly as he could. When John Paul realised a few minutes later that he was crying he knew he had his answer – more honest, more real than any words could ever have been.

 

 

 

**

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

 

John Paul knocked on the door, sick to his stomach.

 

Kieron answered, unsmiling. “John Paul. Feeling better?” He turned, allowing John Paul to follow him in.

 

“I wasn’t sick – I just couldn’t face you.”

 

“Right. But you can now.” He was standing, hands in pockets, already looking like he’d had his heart ripped from his chest.

 

“Kieron I am so sorry.”

 

“A Dear John letter delivered in person. That’s refreshing!”

 

“I don’t know what to say. It wasn’t supposed to happen, I didn’t plan it.”

 

“You slept with someone. You slept with someone and you’re afraid I’m going to finish because of it. Well I know I can’t give you what you want as often as you need-“

 

“Kieron it’s-“

 

“No, I know it’s not about the sex, John Paul. Look I don’t like you being, sleeping with other people and I think if we’re going to continue this I’d like to think you could stay faithful, but a one night stand – well I can overlook that.” He looked at the floor. “Was it Kris?”

 

“No, it wasn’t Kris – it was Craig.”

 

Kieron’s head came up at that and his demeanour changed completely. He seemed angry, angry and...tense. “Craig, your ex, the love of your life?”

 

“Wha-?”

 

“Oh don’t you worry I know all about him. Your mother hates him, do you know that? None of your sisters, except Carmel, like him. And as soon as he returns you’re back in bed with him.” He laughed, sat down on the bed, opened up the first two buttons on his shirt. “Myra says that he’s bad for you, that you act like an idiot when he’s around.”

 

“She’s right – I do – I’m not going to deny it.”

 

“So was it a mutual thing or did he ‘persuade’ you?”

 

“It was me – all the way. I initiated it.”

 

“And where was I in all this?”

 

“Kieron I’m sorry. I was wrong to sleep with him.”

 

“So some sense at last. He’s gone now anyway hasn’t he?”

 

“Yeah. A couple of hours ago.”

 

“Did you go to the airport with him?”

 

“No.”

 

He seemed to be relaxing again. “I wouldn’t have thought he was your type, John Paul.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Seems a bit arrogant, a bit shallow.”

 

“So why all the buttering up the other day?”

 

“Just being polite – your mum gave him such a bad press and I do believe in giving the benefit of the doubt – even to those who ultimately don’t deserve it.”

 

“Craig’s ok – mum just didn’t like the way we got together-“

 

“Well, no, not exactly noble was it, the way he cheated on his girlfriend with you?”

 

“It happens.”

 

“I know it does – it doesn’t get better no matter how common it is.”

 

“Am I going to get a lecture?”

 

“Do you need one?”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

“So you got it out of your system then. I suppose I can understand that-“

 

“I’m never going to get Craig out of my system, Kieron. That’s why I’m here.” He debated with himself a moment before sitting beside him. “Kieron I’m still in love with him.”

 

“I thought you were in love with me.”

 

“I do love you, Kieron, but not the way I love Craig. I’m sorry but I’ve had to face it – I didn’t want to, but it’s the truth. There’s never going to be anyone else for me – even if there are other guys it will never be the same. I can’t keep lying to myself, or to you. I’ve been putting off this day for 8 months Kieron, but a part of me always knew that if he ever came back and wanted me I’d go to him no matter who and what was in my life. I hate myself for that, hate that he can make me feel like that, make me throw everything aside for him, but I can not lie about that. I’m so sorry.”

 

He could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Kieron was hurting and it was his fault and he didn’t have the means to make any of it better.

 

“John Paul.” John Paul allowed Kieron to take him by the hand. “I hate to see you like this. You must see that Craig isn’t good for you – look at you, look at what’s he’s been able to do and he isn’t even here anymore. Is that how you want to live your life; at his dictate, waiting on him, waiting on a scrap of attention from him? You must see how wrong he is for you”

 

“I know, I know that it must seem that way to you – to everybody who cares about me – you, mum, my sisters, but it’s not going to change anything. He’s everything to me, everything I’ve ever wanted and I don’t care what it looks like – I gave him up once and it killed me. You can’t have any idea. The John Paul you’ve known is me without Craig in my life – a pale imitation of the man I am when I’m with him. I know I behave like a mad person when he’s around, but I don’t care: he makes me come alive, the way no-one else does.”

 

“Including me.”

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

“So you and me, that was what, a stop-gap until you could throw yourself into the madness once more?” He let go of John Paul’s hand, stood and paced to the window. “I thought I knew you, thought we had something, but I’ve been fooling myself and you’ve been fooling me too. I would have given it up for you, John Paul. That’s what the weekend was going to be for.” He turned to him, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was crying. John Paul had to turn away, but that didn’t stop his own tears flowing. “I’d made up my mind that you were important enough for me to reconsider my vows, come out to the Church, step down, choose you over my vocation.” His laugh was bitterly amused. “And you would have let me wouldn’t you, all the while knowing that if he ever came on the scene you’d drop your pants and bend over for him without giving me a second’s consideration. My god you can’t even deny it can you?” He was shaking his head, regarding John Paul like a physical anomaly the existence of which he simply couldn’t get his head around. “You’d be with me, openly with me, and what, fuck him behind my back?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing?”

 

“I wouldn’t have an affair with him.”

 

“Because everyone you’re with that isn’t him that’s the affair isn’t it? That’s how it is in that messed up head of yours isn’t it? It’s not cheating cos he’s the one you’re with in your heart.” He turned and punched the wall. “Get out!”

 

John Paul knew there was no point protesting. He’d hurt him too much and there was no way to make it better, so he left, closing the door softly behind him.

 

 

Yet again, he and Craig had messed up in their determination to be together, but he was tired of feeling guilty about that. From the moment he and Craig met it had been set in stone – they were going to be together - fighting it was the reason other people had got hurt, why they’d hurt each other, but no more. For the first time in this affair he felt completely certain of Craig, knew that he was just as caught in the madness as he was, just as vulnerable, just as determined to be with him. That was all he needed to face the rest of them, hurt Kieron, his mum, Sarah, Frankie – all of them.

 

As long as they trusted each other they’d get through it.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
